


i don’t shine (if you don’t shine)

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cuddling & Snuggling, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, I suppose., Love Confessions, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Tenderness, don't know if wish babies count as accidental but what ever, i started this a long time ago okay i didn't know what was coming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 05:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20285830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: Adam thinks he’s still dreaming when the sound of a crying baby wakes him up.(he's going to need some help with that.)





	i don’t shine (if you don’t shine)

**Author's Note:**

> i started this in MAY then didn't add anything until last week but whatever it's finished now
> 
> wrote this for... well if you're reading this You Know. so. anyway.
> 
> possible warning for adam's mom being a relevant character? this was after all inspired by adam "mama's boy" lowry
> 
> title from "read my mind" by the killers

Adam thinks he’s still dreaming when the sound of a crying baby wakes him up. 

He tries to close his eyes and ignore it—he’s probably just imagining things. That is, until he notices the light shining under his door, like he left a lamp on in the living room earlier. He checks his phone. The clock reads  _ 2:47 am.  _ Adam groans and gets up.

He pulls a sweater on, not wanting to face any potential murderers with no shirt on, and quietly opens the door.

The crying sounds louder, but it’s still the only sound. There’s nobody else there. Comforted by the knowledge that he’s not going to get stabbed the second he steps out of his room, Adam follows the baby’s cries to his living room. He doesn’t see anything, at first.

Then he gets closer to the couch. 

There’s a basket sitting right in the center, a small patchwork quilt covering a  _ baby. _

The baby’s face is an angry red, wet with tears. When it sees Adam, the crying stops. The baby gurgles, small fists waving in his direction. 

Adam knows what this means. The baby coos as he sits on the couch beside the basket, fists flailing faster in excitement. The movement dislodges a small card that had been tucked carefully between the edge of the blanket and the basket. Adam picks it up carefully. The paper is heavy, creamy and white. The words on it look like they might’ve been legible once, but they’ve been smeared and smudged enough that Adam can’t make out what the card’s supposed to say, apart from what looks like  _ Congratulations _ and  _ daughter.  _ A girl, then.

He sets the card down on the coffee table and looks at the baby again. She blinks at him, her chubby face scrunched up curiously.

Adam carefully picks up the quilt and puts it beside the card. She’s wearing simple white footie pajamas, and she kicks her feet cheerfully once they’re free. It’s not like Adam’s never picked up a baby before—he spends tons of time with babies, it seems—but this is different. This is  _ his _ baby. 

She feels so small in his arms, and Adam notices that he’s trembling, a little. He holds her close to his chest, looking down at her tiny face. She has little wisps of dark hair and big brown eyes. Brushing a finger along her cheek inspires a delighted noise and some more flailing fists. When Adam catches one hand, she immediately wraps it around one of his fingers. Adam feels a lump rise in his throat.

That’s when he remembers he doesn’t know what to  _ do _ with a baby. He has no baby food, nowhere for a baby to sleep, nothing. 

He calls his mom. 

He has to try a few times, since she’s probably sleeping, but he doesn’t know who else to call for information about babies. 

“Adam?” she says when she finally picks up. “What’s going on? It’s the middle of the night!” 

“Sorry.” He has to whisper, since the baby has fallen asleep on him. He shifts on the couch so he can lean against the armrest and have her lie on his chest, secured by his free hand. “I just—I don’t know who else to call.” She waits. He takes a deep breath, jumps right in. “I have a wishbaby,” he says, and there’s silence on the other end of the line for a moment.

“Oh!” There’s some noise, like she’s getting up. “How?” she asks. 

“I don’t know,” Adam says, feeling overwhelmingly incompetent. “Her crying woke me up a few minutes ago.” He pauses to let his mom process the fact that she has a  _ grandchild  _ before he continues. “I don’t know what to do with a baby, what if I mess up?”

“Honey,” she says, her voice gentle, “all parents make mistakes sometimes. You’ll do fine.” 

“I don’t know what to  _ do.” _ Adam’s voice cracks on the last word. At least his parents had had time to  _ prepare _ for their children. 

“I wish I could help more,” she says, “but I can’t come to Winnipeg right this minute, much as I want to. Is there someone else you can call?” Adam opens his mouth to say  _ no, _ that none of his teammates would be able to help him at three in the morning, but—

“Yeah,” he says. “Brandon can help me.” He says goodbye to his mom, promises to send pictures, and hangs up.

He stares at his phone, his thumb hovering over Brandon’s contact name, and he hesitates. Then the baby wriggles in sleep, making a snuffly little noise. Adam calls him.

“Adam.” Brandon sounds vaguely pissed off. “Why.” He doesn’t elaborate, but he doesn’t need to. 

“I need you to come over,” Adam says, trying to let some of his desperation bleed into his voice. “Like, right now.” Brandon makes a disgusted noise.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he says. “I know we don’t have to skate tomorrow, but come  _ on. _ I’m not coming over at—“ He pauses, and there’s a rustling sound like he’s checking the time, “—three in the morning just because you want to fuck, come on.”

“It’s not that,” Adam hisses. “This is really important, please, just. Come over.” 

“Are you going to tell me what it is?” Brandon asks, which. He  _ could. _ But. 

“It’ll be easier to show you,” Adam says. Brandon sighs. “Please?” Adam adds.

“Fine.” Adam avoids pumping his fist triumphantly, not wanting to dislodge the baby. “Give me half an hour.”

Half an hour later finds the baby awake again. After raiding the basket, Adam found a small pouch with some diapers and what looks like formula. At least the Universe is looking out for him. 

He’s at the stove, balancing the baby on his hip with one hand and heating up formula with the other, when Brandon comes in.

“Okay, are you going to show me what—the  _ fuck.”  _ Adam turns around to see Brandon in the kitchen doorway, staring at him and the baby with wide eyes. 

“Um,” Adam says. “Hi?” The baby squeaks excitedly, starts squirming again. “Stop that,” Adam says sternly. She ignores him. “Can you take her?” Brandon’s eyes snap up from the baby to his face. 

“I, uh, don’t—”

“Come on,” Adam interrupts. “You’ve held babies before.” Brandon approaches tentatively, and Adam carefully passes him his daughter. They both hold their breath for a moment, unsure if the baby is going to start crying or something now that Adam isn’t holding her anymore, but she just makes a soft sound and fists her hands in Brandon’s shirt. 

Brandon looks at the baby, and Adam looks at Brandon, a warm feeling in his chest at the expression on his face. He looks almost  _ awed, _ and Adam can relate. Brandon looks up at him and his face clears a little.

“Who knew your kid would be so cute?” he says, and Adam scowls.

“Shut up,” he says. “Go sit on the couch or something, I need to finish this.” Careful not to jostle the baby, Brandon turns and goes into the living room. Adam can hear him talking to her, but he can’t make out any words.

He puts the formula in a bottle, tests the temperature on his wrist and grabs an old hand towel before going to find Brandon. Brandon’s sitting on the couch, making faces at her. 

Adam laughs at him. Brandon might like to act otherwise, but he’s  _ such _ a softie. 

“Here,” Brandon says, passing her back to Adam so he can feed her. Adam can feel Brandon’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t look up. “Does she have a name?” Brandon asks.

“No.” Adam feels stupid about that, actually, like he’s been so focused on everything else that he forgot to name his  _ daughter. _

“Hmm,” Brandon says, but he sounds considering, not disappointed. “What about after your mom?” Adam blinks. That’s—that’s a good idea, actually. “Like, Elaine, Ellie for short?” Adam looks up at him. “Uh, I mean, it’s up to you, obviously, I just—”

“Yeah.” Adam swallows hard. “It’s perfect.” He brushes his fingertips over the baby’s— _ Ellie’s _ —soft hair. “Ellie,” he murmurs. She blinks up at him, still drinking her formula. Her brown eyes look straight into his face. He looks back to Brandon instead, catching him staring at them with a weird expression on his face. 

He doesn’t say anything, and Adam has to take the bottle and stand up so Ellie doesn’t burp all over his couch and his clothes. After he dumps the towel in the sink, he keeps holding her. 

“I don’t have anything for her,” he finally says. “I need… a lot of stuff.” He’s pacing around the room, Ellie dozing in his arms. Adam stops moving when a thought strikes him and he turns to Brandon, probably with his desperation all over his face. “What if I’m a terrible dad?”

“Oh, buddy.” Brandon sighs, standing up. He holds his arms out expectantly, and Adam carefully hands Ellie over. “Go make a list of what you’ll need, okay? Then go to bed.” Adam looks at Brandon, who looks tired but is still determined to help, then at Ellie where she’s sleeping against Brandon’s chest. Brandon tilts his head. “Go on,” he says, “we’ll be fine.”

Adam hesitates for a moment, but finally goes. He finds a pen and an old receipt, scrawls down a list of what he thinks he’ll need, sticks it on the fridge, and goes to bed.

He’s not quite asleep when the bed dips, Brandon settling in beside him. Far enough away that Adam can’t touch him, but still close enough that he can feel the warmth of his skin.

“Ellie?” he mumbles, half-muffled into his pillow.

“In your spare room,” Brandon tells him. “She’ll be okay in the basket for tonight.”

“Mhm,” Adam says agreeably. He shoves his face into the pillow with a sigh and falls asleep.

He wakes up again, later, the sound of a baby crying filling the apartment again. He wonders, for a second, if he’s having a weird time loop dream. He flails a little when he tries to get up, his hand landing in still-warm sheets.

Not a dream, then.

Adam stumbles out of bed and to the spare room, where he sees Brandon holding Ellie with his back to the door.

“Shhh,” Brandon’s saying, “don’t want to wake your dad.” He rocks her a little, and her crying quiets into soft whimpers. “There you go.” Brandon keeps holding her until she goes back to sleep and he sets her back down in her basket. Adam says nothing.

Brandon only sees him when he turns around, and he freezes like he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but Adam shakes his head, not wanting to wake the baby again. He steps back into the hallway and Brandon follows.

“Thank you,” Adam says, once they’re back in his room. He crawls back under the blankets, watching Brandon hesitate for a second before joining him. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know.” Brandon’s quiet for a moment. “I just—can’t let you do this by yourself.” Adam’s chest feels warm when he hears that, then Brandon says, “I mean, you can’t raise a kid and think you’re the best influence around."

“Hey!”

“We all remember what happened last time we made the playoffs, bud.” Brandon kicks his leg softly. Adam winces at the memory.

“You’re not allowed to tell her about that, ever,” he warns.

“Hmm,” Brandon says. “We’ll see.” He sighs sleepily, and a moment later his breath evens out in the sounds of sleep.

Adam lies awake a little longer, thinking of the way Brandon had spoken so softly to Ellie, but he can’t resist the pull of sleep.

* * *

He wakes up the next morning when he feels Brandon get up. There’s a hand on his face, gently touching his cheek.

“Go back to sleep,” Brandon whispers. That sounds like a nice plan, so Adam lets his eyes slip shut again. He thinks, as he drifts off, that he feels Brandon brush a kiss over his forehead.

He’s probably imagining things.

* * *

Adam gets up for real when he  hears Ellie crying again, goes to pick her up out of her basket and change her diaper with the practiced ease that comes from having a lot of friends and family with babies.

He makes more formula, Ellie lying on her quilt where Adam spread it over his fluffiest rug. She’s kicking her legs in the air and making cheerful little noises, so Adam thinks she must be having a good time.

He takes a couple pictures of her and sends them off to his family. His mom calls immediately upon receiving them, so he puts her on speaker while he makes breakfast. When he tells her Ellie’s name, she gets suspiciously sniffly.

“It was actually Brandon’s idea,” he says offhandedly, cracking an egg into the pan. His mom makes a thoughtful sound. “It doesn’t mean anything,” Adam hurries to tell her. She doesn’t need to get any of the wrong ideas. “He’s just helping me with her. He’s a good friend, that’s all.” He has to remember that.

“Oh,” Brandon says. Adam turns around to see Brandon looking at him strangely, just inside the kitchen. Adam panics for a moment, because what if he can tell, tell the way Adam was so quick to dismiss that was because he wishes it were otherwise, but Brandon just turns away. “I got some things for you.” He waves a hand at the few bags he’s got with him. “More formula and diapers, some more clothes and stuff. I got a carseat so if you want to get her, like, a crib and everything you can take her with you.”

Adam’s mom makes a soft noise on the other end of the phone. Brandon looks kind of embarrassed. He stares at the floor.

“Hey, mom, I gotta go,” he says. “Love you.” He hangs up, dumps the eggs onto two plates and pours the formula into a bottle. He faces Brandon, holding the bottle and a towel, and before he even speaks Brandon’s taking them from his hands.

“I’ve got it,” he says.

“I made breakfast for you,” Adam says, watching Brandon scoop Ellie off the floor. She seems delighted to see him again, judging by the way she almost punches him in the face a couple times. He manages to wrangle her into drinking her formula, then burps her easily over his shoulder. The towel gets dumped into the sink, and by the time Brandon sets her back on her quilt, his eggs have probably gone cold. 

He eats them anyway.

After they’ve eaten, Brandon having brushed his teeth with the spare toothbrush he keeps under Adam’s sink for their hookups, Adam catches him leaving without telling him. 

“Where are you going?” he asks. Ellie gurgles from his arms, reaching out for Brandon with a squeak.

“Uh,” Brandon says, “home?” He shuffles a little closer to the door.

“Why?” Adam doesn’t know why he says  _ that. _ He clears his throat. “You should stay, um. Come help us shop. I don’t know what to look for, so.”

“And you think I do?” Brandon raises an eyebrow, but he’s stopped trying to subtly run away. Adam shrugs. 

“You can carry shit, then.” He passes Ellie into Brandon’s unresisting arms. “Let me just get ready.” He has to go to his room to get his shoes, and when he comes back, Brandon’s looking at Ellie with, like, the softest expression Adam’s ever seen. It makes something in him twinge. Not quite painfully, but it aches, just a bit. “Let’s go,” he says, interrupting whatever  _ moment _ Brandon was having.

Brandon passes her back to him as soon as he can. He tries not to think about why that hurts. 

The two of them manage to figure out how to configure the carseat in Adam’s car, buckling Ellie in carefully once it’s secure. 

“I’ll drive,” Adam says. “Find me a place where I can get all the stuff, eh?” Brandon starts typing on his phone, giving Adam occasional directions when he starts driving. 

They end up at a department store, parking lot not too busy yet since it’s early morning. Brandon shows him how he can use the carseat to carry Ellie around more easily.

“Easier on the arms,” he says. Adam agrees, but privately he misses the warm feeling of Ellie snuggled against his chest. He probably wouldn’t be able to feel it right now anyway, Ellie bundled up in baby-sized winter clothes, but still. 

Brandon leads him into the store and finds a sales associate in the section that’s just, like, packed with so much kids’ stuff that Adam doesn’t know where to  _ start. _

A saleswoman, Sue, helps them find pretty much everything they need. Occasionally, she asks them what colour they prefer. It’s easy to exchange a grin with Brandon and say  _ navy blue. _ Brandon even gets Ellie a little Jets toque.

“So,” Sue says. They’ve already found a crib and a stroller, and are looking for a high chair. Brandon’s holding Ellie while Adam studies two seemingly identical ones, but they both look up when she speaks. She smiles. “When did she show up?” Adam’s surprise must show on his face, because she laughs. “Most people who are expecting their babies don’t come here to buy everything all at once,” she explains. “It makes it easy to spot the wishbabies.”

“Oh,” Adam says. Of course. “Just last night, actually.” 

“Well,” she says, “you two seem to be doing a very good job.” 

Brandon looks at her sharply, but before he can say anything, Adam speaks.

“Thank you,” he says. He smiles. 

Brandon looks confused, but he doesn’t add anything beyond a murmured  _ thanks _ of his own.

Just before they go to check everything out, Adam holding a teddy bear in one hand to get for Ellie, he catches Sue talking to Brandon. He goes over to them, curious about the way Brandon’s shoulders look kind of stiff.

“—looks just like you,” Sue says. Adam blinks. Before he can fall into crisis mode, Sue spots him and smiles. “All set?” 

Adam just nods. 

The drive back to Adam’s is quiet, mostly. Brandon’s holding the teddy bear in his lap. 

“What are you going to tell the team?” he asks, unprompted. “We have a game tomorrow.”  _ Shit. _ Adam had totally forgotten. 

“I can’t leave her alone,” Adam says helplessly. “She’s my  _ daughter.” _ His hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“That’s not what I meant,” Brandon says. “You’ll have to, like, do so much paperwork.” 

“Oh,” Adam says, slowing to a stop at a red light, “fuck.”

* * *

Adam heats up leftovers for lunch while Brandon goes back to his place to get some of his stuff. He feeds Ellie again, changes her diaper, then sets her up on her new play mat. She seems quite pleased with her new situation, making that chirping noise that Adam can finally associate with  _ excitement. _ She’s still too small to really do much with it, but the colours and shapes seem to keep her entertained enough.

Brandon’s back before long, dropping his overnight bag in Adam’s room before coming to say hi to Ellie. He lets her grab his finger in one of her little fists, smiling softly. 

“Lunch is ready,” Adam says, his voice rough. He clears his throat, passing Brandon his plate. Unfortunately, this means that Brandon’s smile is turned on  _ him _ now, which is just, like. A lot.

“Thanks,” Brandon says. He takes his plate and goes to sit at the table. Adam joins him after only a moment’s hesitation.

“I still don’t know what to do,” Adam says after they’ve finished eating, Ellie sleeping in her new crib. His head falls against the back of the couch in a gesture that hopefully conveys his despair. 

“Hey,” Brandon says. He reaches out to rest a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.” He rubs a circle on Adam’s shoulder for a minute, looking pensive. 

“What is it?” Adam asks. Brandon opens his mouth, hesitates. 

“You should call Chevy,” he says. “He’ll need to know.” Smart, probably. 

Adam has a feeling he was going to say something else. He doesn’t bother asking what. He goes to make the call. 

Chevy seems pretty shocked, but he recovers quickly. He asks Adam if he’s doing okay, if he needs help with anything. It’s really only road trips that’ll be troublesome, so he says so, but promises he’ll find someone to look after Ellie when they’re away.

“So,” Chevy says when they’ve pretty much reached the end of their discussion. He lets the pause grow for a long moment. “I have to ask.” Adam waits a beat. “Who’s the other parent?” 

“It’s only me,” Adam says. He doesn’t reflect too hard on why it feels like a lie.

Chevy only murmurs acknowledgement before explaining how Adam will have to come in to fill out the necessary registration paperwork tomorrow. 

By the time Adam’s done, Brandon’s gone from sitting up on the couch to sprawled out on his back with an arm over his face. At some point he must have gotten up, because he’s wearing one of Adam’s hoodies. Adam just watches him, something warm and twisty in his stomach. 

Brandon makes a sleepy sound, twitching like he’s dreaming. They’re not—their relationship isn’t a  _ relationship, _ they mess around when they can because it’s easy and it’s fun, and neither of them have ever raised the subject of wanting  _ more _ than that.

Adam thinks he’s made a mistake. 

Instead of thinking about it, he takes the throw blanket and gently lays it on top of Brandon, making sure his bare feet are covered. Brandon rubs his cheek against the cushion with a pleased sound.

Adam goes to his room and sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor and wondering when everything got so out of his control. 

Brandon wakes up before Ellie does. He comes looking for Adam, finds him on the phone with his mom. He’s just finished asking her to come and look after Ellie so he can have time to figure out how to hire a nanny.

“Of course I’ll come,” she says as Brandon opens the door. He looks rumpled in a way that Adam would call  _ adorable _ if he didn’t think Brandon would punch him for it. 

“Thank you,” he says. “I’ll pay for your plane tickets. Love you.” She tells him she’ll be there soon and hangs up. Adam chucks his phone over his shoulder into the sheets somewhere and flops back onto the bed with a groan. He rubs his hands over his face.

“Your mom coming?” The bed dips as Brandon sits next to him.

“Only until I can find a nanny. She doesn’t need another kid to raise, so.” 

Brandon snorts, giving up and lying down. He’s not quite touching Adam, but if either of them moved even a little, he would be. Adam sighs and rolls over onto his side, slinging one leg over Brandon’s waist and pressing his nose into Brandon’s shoulder. He closes his eyes, feeling the way Brandon goes tense for a moment before wrapping his arm around Adam’s shoulders.

Adam doesn’t try for anything else, just lies there quietly with Brandon until he hears Ellie wake up down the hall. He stands up, leaving Brandon there, and goes to check on his daughter. 

After changing Ellie’s diaper, he takes one of the books from the box that Brandon had put together back at the store and carries her into the living room. He puts her down to play on her mat before he sits on the couch to watch her wave her hands at the hanging toys, occasionally kicking her feet. 

Adam takes a picture of her and, before he can think better of it, sends it as a group text to the whole team with the caption  _ this is ellie. _ He switches his phone to silent and puts it facedown on the coffee table. Ellie gurgles at him.

He lies down on the couch with her on his chest. He can hardly tell he’s got a baby on him—she’s just so  _ tiny. _ Adam rubs her back for a second, then he reaches to pick up the book he brought with him, careful not to dislodge her.

_ Goodnight Moon. _

Adam clears his throat and starts to read. He keeps his voice low, not sure if Brandon’s sleeping again or if Ellie will fall asleep, but Brandon must hear him anyway. He hears a soft sound and looks over to see Brandon leaning against the wall and watching him from the entryway. Adam waves at him a little and keeps reading.

By the time he closes the book, Ellie’s asleep again. The book is tugged out of his hands, Brandon putting it on the coffee table beside his phone. Adam moves like he means to get up, but Brandon presses a hand against his shoulder until he stops, then picks Ellie up carefully to put her in her crib. 

When Brandon disappears down the hall, Adam presses a hand to his chest, still warm where Ellie had been lying. Brandon’s not gone long, making for the couch as soon as he gets back. Before Adam can sit up to make room for him, Brandon just lies down on top of him.

“Oof,” Adam says, more out of surprise than actually getting his breath knocked out of him. 

“You’re fine,” Brandon says into his chest. He shifts a little, tucking his head under Adam’s chin and getting a hand in his shirt. Adam brings his arms up automatically to wrap around his back. Brandon moves again, this time so he’s lying mostly between Adam’s legs. He sighs, and Adam can feel the way his body goes loose against him. “Comfy,” Brandon mumbles.

Adam’s left lying there, alone with his thoughts, while Brandon takes a nap on top of him. He doesn’t think about why Brandon decided to sleep like this when Adam’s bed is unoccupied. He doesn’t think about how much he’s  _ wanted _ Brandon like this, wishing Brandon would stay and hold him, sometimes, wishing they had more than just hookups.

This isn’t how he expected to get it.

Still, with Brandon on top of him like an extra-handsome weighted blanket, it doesn’t take him long to fall asleep, too.

They don’t talk about falling asleep together after Adam wakes up feeling cold, Brandon gone to the kitchen to make dinner. Adam goes to get Ellie and feeds her before he and Brandon eat warmed-up leftovers. Ellie lies on her mat with her teddy bear, occasionally prodding at it like she isn’t sure what to make of it.

Brandon takes his phone out of his pocket when they’re finished eating, just sitting at the table in silence. His eyes go a little wide. 

“Uh,” he says, “you might want to check your phone.” Adam gets up and finds his phone where he left it earlier, feeling a little apprehensive. 

The group chat Adam had sent the photo of Ellie to earlier has blown up. From what Adam can tell, almost every guy on the team has sent at least one reply, asking when they can meet her, offering advice on childcare, and—this one comes up a lot—who the other parent is. 

Adam answers that one by saying it’s just him. It doesn’t feel any easier than the last time he said it. 

He thanks the guys for their advice and actually saves some of it. At least, the stuff from the guys who are, like, dads. He promises to bring her in tomorrow, since it’ll be a couple days before his mom arrives and he can’t just leave her home alone. That seems to satisfy them. Adam drops his phone onto the couch and rubs his temples. He can feel a headache coming on. 

Brandon sits beside him on the couch, far enough away that they’re not touching. He’s got Ellie in his arms, so Adam reaches over to brush a finger over her chubby cheek before he sits back with a sigh. She waves a little fist at him, so Adam lets her hold his finger. 

“Gah,” she says.

“Yeah,” Adam agrees. “Gah.” 

Brandon snickers. 

“I’ll put her to bed,” he says. “You should get some rest, too, you know. You’re not going to get a ton of sleep for the next few months.” He adjusts Ellie in his arms and stands up, saving Adam from the certain humiliation that would come from asking what Brandon means by  _ you _ instead of  _ we. _

Adam sits there for a minute, wondering what’s gotten into him recently. 

“You coming?” Brandon’s watching him from the hallway, an uncertain expression on his face.

“Yeah.” Adam gets up, stretching out his legs. “I was just thinking about, uh. Stuff. Got distracted.” He shrugs and brushes past Brandon on the way to his room.

He feels tense, later, lying in bed with Brandon barely inches away from him. He’s not—he didn’t think he was, like, pining or anything. He thought they were just hooking up. Now he’s not so sure. It would’ve been easier to ask  _ before _ Adam had a kid, but. Too late.

“Are you okay?” Brandon says suddenly. Adam can’t see him in the dark, but he’s pretty sure Brandon’s facing him now. 

“Thought you were sleeping,” Adam says. It’s not an answer. Brandon sighs. 

“I’m just worried about you.” Adam’s chest feels tight. “Like, uh, you have a baby now. She’s yours, so I’m, you know.” Brandon pauses. “I want to help you.”

Adam rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling through the dark. 

“I don’t know,” he says finally. “It’s been, what. A couple days?” He laughs to himself, but not like it’s actually funny. “Feels like longer, you know?” Brandon murmurs in agreement. “It’s just—this is the rest of my life, now. I thought it’d just be hockey, then maybe when I retired I could settle down.” He trails off. Everything he’d thought his future would be has changed. “Everyone keeps asking me who the other parent is,” he says. “The team doesn’t—most of them think it’s a woman. They don’t even  _ know.” _

“I think more of them know than you think,” Brandon says, which, okay. Way to be cryptic. “Scheifs basically gave me a shovel talk back, uh, when we started hooking up, so.” 

“Oh my god,” Adam groans. He throws an arm over his face. “He’s so embarrassing.” 

“Hey, no,” Brandon says, but Adam can hear the smile in his voice. “It was kind of cute. Shows he cares and shit.”  _ And shit, _ Adam mouths to himself. “Besides,” Brandon adds, “I told him he didn’t need to, since we’re just buddies. He didn’t need to warn me about breaking your heart or whatever, right?”

_ Maybe not on purpose, _ Adam doesn’t say. 

“Right,” he says. Neither of them speak after that, but Brandon shifts closer, just enough that Adam can feel the press of Brandon’s fingertips against his side. He listens to Brandon’s steady breathing until he falls asleep.

* * *

Between the chaos of the past couple of days and the exhaustion that comes with waking up to check on Ellie, both of them forget to set an alarm. 

Adam wakes up to Brandon cursing while he tries to get his pants on, brushing his teeth with his other hand. 

“Uh,” Adam says. Brandon points at a clock before hobbling back to the bathroom, trying to get his socks on one-handed. It’s—yeah, it’s late.

“Don’t worry,” Brandon says, toothbrush-free, “Coach called and said you don’t have to skate today. He said you’re probably not playing tonight.” He grabs a shirt and pulls it over his head. It’s too big on him—one of Adam’s, definitely—but he doesn’t have time to change it. Brandon grabs his wallet and keys off the bedside table and almost runs out of the bedroom.

Adam hears the front door open and close a minute later. He gets up to make breakfast while he waits for Ellie to wake up. 

She’s quiet this morning, blinking up at him around her bottle. Adam puts her down on his bed and lets her wriggle around while he gets dressed, listening to her burble inquisitively every time she discovers a new wrinkle in the blanket.

When he’s dressed, he packs some formula from the fridge and a couple diapers into his bag then scoops her up.

“Time to go meet the boys, honey,” Adam tells her, a grim warning. “Don’t worry, Brandon will be there, too.” He’s probably imagining the way she burbles cheerfully at Brandon’s name. After all, she can’t recognize words yet. 

Can she?

Adam buckles her into her carseat, shoving all thoughts of Brandon out of his head. Now is  _ not _ the time. 

Adam gets to the Iceplex and stops in his usual parking spot. He’s a little concerned about how he’s going to handle the team, but. He’s sure it’ll be fine. 

* * *

“Oh my god,” says Kyle. 

“She’s so  _ small,”  _ whispers Mark. 

“Are you feeding her enough?” asks Nikolaj. 

“Shut up,” Adam tells him. Everyone shuts up. 

Ellie squeaks from his arms and he looks down in surprise. She has both arms reaching out—towards Brandon. Of course. Adam looks at him a little desperately. He does  _ not _ want Ellie to start crying in front of the entire team.

Brandon gets up, stripped out of his pads but still in his undershirt. He takes her from Adam, kisses her on the forehead, and levels a look at the team that just  _ dares _ them to say something about it. 

Unfortunately, the team loves to follow through on stupid dares. 

“Oh my god,” Kyle says again.

“Uh,” Patrik says, goggling at them “are you—"

“I’m so proud,” Mark says, and he’s got a look on his face like he might tear up. 

Better stop  _ that _ right there, Adam thinks. 

“She’s just mine,” Adam blurts. “Brandon’s been helping out.”

“Yeah,” Brandon agrees, but when Adam looks at him he’s not looking back. His face is hidden where he’s looking at Ellie, and his shoulders are tense. 

For once, Adam wishes the team wasn’t here. 

He catches Blake looking at him strangely, but when he notices Adam noticing, he looks away. 

Before Adam can go to him to ask why he’s staring, Maurice enters the room and everyone stops talking. 

“Oh, good,” he says when he sees Adam, “you’ve got some forms to fill out.” He gestures.

“Okay, back to your dad,” Brandon tells Ellie, keeping his voice quiet enough that the team can’t hear him. Adam does, though. He  _ notices _ the warm press of Brandon’s hands against his own when he takes Ellie. 

Adam follows Paul out of the locker room and to the lounge. There’s a couch with a table in front of it. The table has an open file on it, full of papers for Adam to fill out. 

“Chevy made sure to get these in for you so you don’t have to go to the usual registry,” Maurice explains. “This’ll be faster. You just fill in those forms. We’ll handle the rest.”

“Thank you,” Adam says. He sits down, holding Ellie in one arm and picking up a pen with his free hand. He feels almost dazed. It seems like once he fills out the registration forms, it’ll all be official—Ellie will be  _ his,  _ even though she technically already is. 

“Oh, and Adam,” Maurice says, just as he turns to go, “congratulations.” He leaves the room. 

“Thanks,” Adam says belatedly. 

Ellie burbles. 

“Yeah,” Adam sighs. He puts the pen to the paper.

* * *

Brandon is waiting for him in the parking lot after.

He’s leaning on the hood of Adam’s car, typing on his phone. He looks up when Adam gets closer and smiles, slipping his phone into his back pocket. His hair is still wet from his shower. 

“How’d it go?” he asks. He steps closer and chucks Ellie gently under her chin. 

“Oob,” she says cheerfully. She catches one of Brandon’s fingers and holds on.

“Fine,” Adam says. He shrugs. “Got a brutal cramp in my hand, though.” He flexes his stiff fingers. 

“Aww, poor baby.” Brandon laughs. “Want me to meet you at your place?”

“I—" Adam hadn’t realized that Brandon would still want to hang around now that Adam’s got everything pretty much sorted out. “Yeah,” he blurts when Brandon starts to look like he wishes he hadn’t asked. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“I’ll see you in a few minutes, then,” Brandon says softly. He carefully extracts his finger from Ellie’s iron grip, but he doesn’t step back right away. Instead, he looks up at Adam with a searching expression. He opens his mouth like he means to say something, but he seems to change his mind and he turns away and goes to find his car. 

Adam watches him go, confusion making his stomach twist. 

Ellie bumps a hand against his chin. He snaps out of it and gets going. 

* * *

Brandon’s already at his place when he gets back, sitting on the trunk of his car. 

“About time,” he calls as soon as Adam opens the car door.

“Yeah, yeah,” Adam says. He gets Ellie out of her carseat and hands her over to Brandon so he can let them into the building. 

“Are you coming to the game tonight?” Brandon asks while they wait for the elevator. 

“Nah.” Adam shakes his head. “We’ll watch it, though. Maybe I’ll bring her in a few weeks.”

The elevator  _ dings _ and they step inside. Brandon presses the button for Adam’s floor.

“You should get her a jersey,” Brandon muses, looking down at Ellie. “One of those tiny ones. Those’re cute.” 

“That’s  _ actually _ a good idea,” Adam says, exaggerating an expression of surprise. 

Brandon kicks at his ankle, but he’s smiling.

By the time Adam gets his door open, Ellie is nodding off against Brandon’s chest. Brandon disappears down the hallway to her room to put her to bed. Adam pours himself a glass of water and, after a beat of hesitation, pours one for Brandon, too. 

Brandon comes back to join him and takes the glass. He drinks it all in one go. Adam stares at the line of his throat, distracted for a second before he takes a sip of his own water. Brandon sets his glass down on the counter with a sigh.

“Thanks,” he says, bumping his shoulder against Adam. “I needed that.” 

“Any time,” Adam says, his voice a little hoarse. Brandon’s lips are shiny and wet from the water. He feels his face heat. 

“You okay?” Brandon asks. He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, just tired,” Adam says, and it’s not even a total lie.

Brandon bumps into him again, but this time it’s more like a lean. He winds an arm around Adam’s waist and closes his eyes, letting out a long breath. One of his fingers hooks through Adam’s belt loop on the other side of his body. Adam’s heart beats faster. Cautiously, he wraps an arm over Brandon’s shoulders.

“Do you ever wonder,” Brandon says, but he trails off before he finishes his thought. He pushes his face into Adam’s shoulder instead. 

“What,” Adam asks, keeping his voice quiet. He turns enough to rest his chin on top of Brandon’s head, still holding him close. Brandon’s hair tickles his neck. 

“It’s nothing,” Brandon mumbles, voice muffled in Adam’s shirt. “It was stupid.”

“Hey.” Adam shakes him a little. “Tell me?”

“Maybe later,” Brandon says, but his tone makes it sound more like  _ no.  _ Adam doesn’t push it. “Take a nap with me?” Brandon asks unexpectedly, and he looks up at Adam. Their faces are  _ very _ close together, Adam notices. He tries to unnotice.

“Okay,” Adam says softly. “Yeah.”

Brandon falls asleep almost right away, sprawled out on his front with an arm under his pillow. Half his face is pressed into his pillow, and Adam watches his sleeping face for probably too long. Ellie’s crying has Brandon’s eyes blinking open, but Adam presses him back down gently and goes to check on Ellie. 

After changing her diaper, he carries her back to his room, propping up his pillow to lean against with Ellie curled on his chest. 

Brandon cracks an eye open, his mouth curving into a smile when he sees her. 

“Hi, baby,” he murmurs sleepily.

“Bah,” she answers, followed by a yawn. 

Adam rests a hand on the back of his head, rubbing his fingers over the short hair there. 

“Go back to sleep,” Adam whispers. 

“Mmkay.” Brandon stretches out his limbs and closes his eyes again. One of his hands stays curled over Adam’s hipbone.

Adam drops a kiss to the top of Ellie’s head and wishes he could live in this moment forever. 

* * *

Adam’s mom gets in the next day. Brandon had slept at his own place after the game, not wanting to wake up Ellie so late, but he comes over first thing in the morning. 

Adam doesn’t tell him how he’d lain in bed for too long, staring at the ceiling through the dark, feeling cold and lonely. That’s just embarrassing, really. 

Brandon is lying on the floor beside where Ellie is on her playmat. He keeps pointing at toys and whispering to her, making her warble and kick her legs excitedly. 

Adam’s sitting on the couch, trying to take pictures as subtly as he can. 

The buzzer sounds.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Adam gets up to let his mom in. Brandon looks at him curiously when he comes back into the living room. 

“Everything alright?” he asks. Ellie bops him on the shoulder with a wild fist. “Hmm,” he says before Adam has a chance to answer, “someone inherited the goon genes.” He gives Adam a significant look. 

“Shut up,” Adam tells him. He flops back onto the couch. “My mom’s here. She’s going to stay for the four days we’re on the road and find u—find me a nanny.” Adam bites his lip and hopes Brandon doesn’t notice his slip. 

“You don’t know how to hire a nanny?” Brandon raises an eyebrow. “Dude.”

_ “Dude,”  _ Adam repeats, “do  _ you _ know what to look for in a nanny?” 

“Well,” Brandon says, “no.” 

“That’s what I thought,” Adam mutters, then there’s a knock on the door. 

“Where’s my granddaughter,” is the first thing Adam’s mother says when he lets her in. 

“Bah!” Ellie cries from the other room. 

“Mom—" Adam starts, hurrying after her with her suitcase in tow. 

“Oh, hello,” his mom says to Brandon. 

“Hi, Mrs. Lowry,” Brandon says awkwardly. 

His mom doesn’t even bother telling Brandon to call her by her first name, because she’s spotted the baby. Ellie gurgles, intrigued by the new person in the apartment. 

She doesn’t fuss at being picked up, blinking up at her grandmother curiously. 

“Brown eyes,” she murmurs, so soft that Adam barely catches it. 

“Mom?” She looks at him. “What do you mean?”

Brandon hadn’t heard; he’s frowning at them in confusion. 

“Oh—I’ll tell you later.” Adam seems to be getting that a lot lately. “Now, show me where you keep her things before you have to go.”

* * *

A four day road trip has never felt all that long before, but Adam never had a baby at home. Now he understands how the other dads must feel.

Two days in, on the way to the rink for the game, Adam’s phone lights up with a message from his mom. It’s a picture of Ellie, her scrunched-up face turned to the camera. 

_ Little lady has had enough of formula!  _ his mom captions it. Adam grins. 

Leaning over, he nudges Brandon where he’s leaning against the window. 

“Look,” Adam says. He holds up his phone. 

Brandon’s face softens into a smile at the picture. 

“Too cute,” he agrees. 

Adam types that out and sends it in reply, give or take a few exclamation marks. He looks down at the picture for a moment longer. His chest aches. 

“Hey,” Brandon says, voice low so the rest of the team doesn’t overhear. He presses his shoulder against Adam. “We’ll be home soon. And your mom’s taking good care of her, you know that. I mean, you turned out alright, so Ellie’ll be fine.”

It takes a second for Adam to realize that Brandon kind of complimented him. 

“Aww,” Adam says, squishing Brandon up against the window, “you think I’m  _ alright? _ You say the sweetest things.”

“Don’t make me take it back,” Brandon says dryly, but his ears are pink and he crosses his arms before looking back out the window. 

* * *

They win both their games on the road trip, so the team is in high spirits on the flight back to Winnipeg.

Adam gets out of his seat to go to the bathroom, trying not to wake up Brandon where he’s sleeping against his shoulder. He bends over the small sink and splashes some cold water on his face, taking a deep breath before he heads back out into the plane. 

He almost runs right into Blake. 

“Uh,” says Adam. “Hi?”

“Can I talk to you?” Blake asks, but he doesn’t wait for Adam to agree before taking his arm and pulling him deeper into the back of the plane. 

“So, like, what’s up?” Adam asks awkwardly. He likes Blake and considers him a friend, but he’s never really been one-on-one with him before. 

“It’s about your wishbaby,” Blake says, and Adam blinks in surprise. He knows one of Blake’s kids is a wishbaby—everyone knows that—but he’s not sure what that has to do with Ellie. 

“What about her,” Adam asks slowly. 

“It’s—well, it’s not about her specifically, but you said you’re the only parent, right?” Blake’s eyes are gleaming in the shadowy light and Adam feels uncomfortably reminded of a wolf in the night. 

“Yeah,” Adam says. “I mean, I was alone when she appeared, so.” He doesn’t mention everything else that could point to him being wrong. It’s not worth thinking about. He doesn’t want to hope—no. Can’t think about it. 

“That doesn’t mean anything. Wishbabies appear to one parent all the time.” He makes a face. “Okay, not all the time, but often enough that it’s known.” Blake looks at him sternly. Adam forgets the wolf, and feels like he’s a little boy about to be scolded by his father. “Did you not do any research? There are literally thousands of books and even more websites dedicated to this shit, you know.”

“I’ve been busy,” Adam says weakly. 

“Hmm.” Blake’s frown deepens. “Did you find her card? It can be easy to miss.”

“No help there,” Adam says. “I found it, but it was so smudged that I could only make out a couple words.” 

“Did you keep it?” Blake asks, intent. 

“Uh, yeah, I think so. I didn’t throw it out. Why?”

“Just—" Blake rubs a hand over his jaw. “I’m going to come by your place tomorrow. Make sure you have it.” 

Blake claps Adam on the shoulder and brushes past him to go back to his seat. 

Slowly, Adam follows, sliding back in beside Brandon. 

Brandon opens an eye.

“What took you so long,” he mumbles. He sniffs. 

“Blake wanted to talk to me,” Adam says. “C’mere.”

Brandon snuggles back into his side with a sigh.

“What about?” Brandon asks, but his voice is already slipping towards sleep. 

“Oh, you know,” Adam says, trying to find something to say, “dad stuff.”

Brandon stiffens strangely.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “Okay.” He sniffs again.

“Brandon?” 

Brandon doesn’t answer. He must be asleep again. 

* * *

Adam goes back to Brandon’s when they get back to Winnipeg instead of going straight home. As much as he wants to see how his mom and Ellie are doing, he has a feeling neither of them would appreciate being woken up at two in the morning. 

The next morning feels like old times again, almost. 

Adam wakes up in Brandon’s bed with Brandon curled up behind him, and they eat breakfast together, kicking at each other under the table. 

It doesn’t last, though. As soon as they’re both dressed and showered—separately, so maybe not so much like old times after all—Adam drives them back to his place.

Adam’s mom is up and giving Ellie her formula in the kitchen when they get there. She greets them with a harried wave, but doesn’t come talk to them until Ellie’s been burped and cleaned up. 

“Nice wins, boys,” she tells them, handing Ellie over to Adam. “I found you a nanny who should be good—she came to do an interview and Ellie took to her quite nicely. She’s a grad student at U of M, and her hours are good.”

“Mom,” Adam says with deep conviction, “you’re the best.”

“Ellie is a much more pleasant baby than you or Joel ever were,” she tells him bluntly. 

Brandon snorts. 

“My flight isn’t until tonight,” she adds. “In the meantime, I’m going to take a shower and a nap.”

She heads down the hall, followed by the  _ click _ of the bathroom door closing and the sound of rushing water. 

Adam finds Ellie’s card tucked into her basket in his bedroom closet. The words are still smudged. He doesn’t know why he feels a pang of disappointment, like he’d been hoping the words would’ve magically cleared up by now. 

He places the card on the table, and it’s not long after when Blake texts him that he’s on his way over. 

“What’re you doing?” Brandon asks, looking between Adam and the card. He has Ellie dozing in his arms. His face is pale. 

“Blake wants to see it.” Adam shrugs. “Dunno why, but it seems important to him.”

Brandon nods and carries Ellie to the couch. He kicks his feet up onto the coffee table and stares into space, a hand absently rubbing Ellie’s back. 

Blake arrives a few minutes later and Adam lets him in. Blake has a piece of paper tucked under his arm and what looks like kid chalk in his hand. 

“Where’s the card?” he asks after exchanging greetings with Adam. 

“On the table, but why—"

Blake’s already past him. 

“Everyone has  _ got _ to stop doing this,” Adam grumbles, trailing after him. 

“The idea is,” Blake says as soon as Adam enters the room, “the cards are written in ink and put in the baby’s basket pretty much right away. Babies tend to be wriggly, so you can imagine a lot of smudged cards, a lot of confusion because of them, you know.” Blake flattens his paper over the card. “So for whatever reason, the ink doesn’t just spawn on the card, but it’s like,” he waves the chalk in the air in an all-encompassing kind of gesture, “wherever the babies come from also uses a pen to write. Or a quill, I guess.” 

Blake presses the chalk onto the paper and starts rubbing. 

Adam understands, suddenly, what he’s doing. He steps closer and watches the words take shape. 

“What’s going on?” Brandon asks curiously, appearing beside Adam. 

“Bah?” Ellie asks.

Adam doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if he could speak at all right now. 

_ Congratulations to Adam Lowry,  _ reads the rubbing,  _ and Brandon Tanev on the arrival of their daughter.  _

Below that is the date she arrived in Roman numerals. 

“I—" Adam tries. His throat feels dry. “I didn’t—"

Brandon leans around him and reads the rubbing for himself. 

Blake is looking at them both with a worried expression. 

“You—" Brandon seems to be having as much difficulty speaking as Adam is. “I’m her….” 

Brandon thrusts Ellie into Adam’s arms unexpectedly. Adam takes her just as she starts to cry. 

“Brandon,” he tries. 

“I have to go,” Brandon says. His eyes are wild, like a trapped animal’s. He turns quickly and almost runs out of the apartment, the door slamming behind him. 

“I should go,” Blake says quietly. He takes his chalk with him, but leaves the paper with the truth written on it behind. 

“Uh huh,” is all Adam can manage.

Blake leaves much more quietly than Brandon. 

After he’s gone, Adam sinks into his chair, Ellie still hiccuping sobs in his arms. He tries his best to comfort her, and eventually she calms down again, so tired from her crying that she falls asleep. 

Adam stares at the rubbing with burning eyes for what seems like hours. 

His mom finds him like that after she wakes up. 

“Where’s Brandon?” she asks at the sight of him alone. 

“He left,” Adam says. He can’t stop his voice from breaking. He looks up at her helplessly and sees the moment she reads the rubbing. 

“Oh,” she says, but she doesn’t sound surprised.

“Did you—" Adam shakes his head.  _ “How _ did you know?”

“Her brown eyes were my first hint that there was another,” she explains. “If it really had just been you, her eyes would be blue. From there it was only a matter of who else could have wished for this as hard as you, and when I got here and saw you two together, well.” She shrugs, giving Adam a little half-smile. “It wasn’t hard to guess.”

“Then why did he  _ leave? _ ” Adam asks, and he can’t keep the desperate note out of his voice. Ellie wriggles in his arms. 

“Bah?” she asks, looking around. 

“Brandon’s not here, sweetheart,” Adam tells her. 

“Bah,” Ellie says sadly. Her chin wobbles dangerously. 

“Don’t you think he might be a little scared?” his mom says gently. “He’s been playing the role, but that’s all he thought he’d ever get. Just playing at it. Now he’s had the real thing thrown in his face. I’m sure he just panicked.”

“But mom—“ Adam starts.

“Adam,” she says crisply, “you are my son and I love you very much, but you can be awfully thick headed when you try.” She points at the card. “His name on there means he wished for this just as much as you did, so why do you think that is?"

Adam feels like the world had been sliding out from under his feet the minute the door shut behind Brandon, but now it’s snapped back into place beneath him. 

“Oh,” says Adam.  _ “Oh.” _

Adam stands up. 

“Oub,” Ellie says. “Bah?”

“Yeah.” Adam carries her to the door and bundles her into her winter clothes. 

His mom steps away from the wall she’d been leaning against to give him and Ellie a hug. 

“Good luck,” she says firmly. She kisses Ellie’s forehead, then takes Adam by the shoulders and turns him around. “Now go get him.”

* * *

Brandon opens his door with a resigned look on his face that changes to surprise when he sees Ellie in Adam’s arms. 

“Here,” Adam says, handing her to him, “get her snowsuit off.” Adam shrugs out of his own coat and kicks off his boots before he heads into the living room. He sits on the couch and crosses his arms.

When Brandon enters the room, Ellie now dressed only in her footed onesie, Adam pats the couch beside him firmly. Brandon looks like a man on the gallows when he joins him. 

“Christ,” Adam says finally, unable to stop himself. “Why do you look so upset?”

“Uh.” Brandon looks like he wasn’t expecting that. 

“I mean,” Adam says as though he hadn’t spoken, “are we really that awful to be around?” 

“Adam, I—"

“You seemed to be doing alright, but then you freaked out and ran off and I don’t know what’s gotten into you, because your name on that card means you wished for this too, so I d—“

“It’s because I’m in love with you!” Brandon shouts. 

Adam’s mouth drops open. 

“Bah,” Ellie tells Brandon in a displeased sort of tone.

“Sorry,” he says to her. Then he looks back at Adam. “I know it wasn’t part of our deal,” he says, “but I couldn’t help it. I started wondering what it’d be like to hold your hand and take you out on dates and—“ Brandon looks away. “And kiss you for real.” 

Adam swallows hard.

“Then Ellie arrived and everything felt—felt  _ right, _ but you kept saying she was just yours and I believed you, but when I saw my name on that card I freaked out because you’d figure out that I’m—you know, and I didn’t think you wanted that.”

“Brandon,” Adam says in his kindest  _ you’re an idiot _ voice, “both our names were on there because we  _ both _ wanted this. I kept saying it was just me because I thought it was, but I knew—not for real, not until I saw the card, but I knew deep down that it was you.” He takes a deep breath. “More importantly,” he adds, “I  _ wanted _ it to be you. I still want it.”

“Even though I broke our deal?” Brandon asks in a small voice.

“We both broke our deal,” Adam tells him, and Brandon’s smile is dazzling.

It’s a little tricky with Ellie between them, but Adam fits a hand on the back of Brandon’s neck and leans down to kiss him. They keep it slow and gentle, like it’s their first time doing it. It kind of is—they’ve never kissed outside the bedroom before.

“You said it already, but I only kind of said it,” Adam says. “I love you.” It’s so  _ easy _ to say.

Brandon ducks his head to hide his smile. 

“Hey, baby,” he says to Ellie. “Looks like I’m your dad, too.”

“Bah,” she says, and it sounds like  _ duh. _

Adam feels sort of choked up. 

“Oh, by the way,” Brandon says. He turns to Adam with a smirk. “This means she gets  _ my _ jersey.”

“Hey!”

* * *

They’ve known for a while that Brandon isn’t going to get an offer from the Jets, but  _ still. _

“Pittsburgh is so far away,” Adam says.

“I know,” Brandon says, wrapping an arm around Adam’s waist, curling up behind him. Adam finds his hand and laces their fingers together.

Ellie is down the hall in the room that’s been officially repurposed from guest room to  _ her _ room. She’s still too young to understand what’s going on, but old enough that she’ll cry and cry when one of them goes away for a while. They’ve already talked about it, made plans for what’ll happen if and when one of them has to go—after all, even Wayne Gretzky gets traded—but it’s  _ real _ now.

“What are we going to do,” Adam asks helplessly. He’s not going to cry—he already did, when Brandon told him in a resigned tone that the Jets are done with him. 

“We’re going to split the season with her,” Brandon says, reciting the plan they’d made. “We’ll spend the holidays and All-Star break together, and we’ll get all summer.”

“Hopefully not too long of a summer,” Adam says just to feel Brandon laugh.

“Hopefully not,” he agrees and kisses Adam’s shoulder. “And during playoffs, our families will look after her. Did I miss anything?”

“No,” Adam says. He sighs. “It’s going to be so hard for her,” he says after a pause.

“I know.” Brandon’s voice is sad. “Being the kid of a hockey player is always hard. You know that.”

“You’re right,” Adam agrees, because it’s  _ true. _

Brandon disentangles their hands and runs his hand down Adam’s side until he relaxes. 

“We’ll be okay,” Brandon whispers, and Adam believes him. 

**Author's Note:**

> me, scanning through the finished doc: where can i add more tender moments and charged hand interaction
> 
> anyWAY this was technically three months in the making so i hope it is good.
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)


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